


The Druid's Maw

by pascalleeos



Series: So Says Our Hearts [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Druids, Dungeon, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Mythology, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pascalleeos/pseuds/pascalleeos
Summary: When civilians and soldiers of Gridania go missing in the Twelveswood, it's up to the Warrior of Light and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to find the villain responsible and bring back the missing people before it's too late.





	The Druid's Maw

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt at creating an original "dungeon" in the FFXIV universe. This particular dungeon would be located somewhere in the Central Shroud and features other characters such as Ser Aymeric de Borel and an original character named Ivy Higgs. Each chapter after the initial set up will be a sort of "phase" of the dungeon, finishing up with a boss at the end of each one. The story and lore behind it will be unveiled as the party travels onward, so keep reading each update to find out more! 
> 
> The events of this story happen sometime after the events of Stormblood (4.0), so there will be some spoilers.

_/Do not look at me so…/_

_As though the words echoed through time itself, they reverberated off of the ancient walls that surrounded them, piercing his thoughts and pinning them squarely to the forefront as the emissary of guilt that they so brazenly represented. No matter how many times the scenario began to play anew in his subconscious, there was only so much precaution he could take to protect himself in the dreaming world. There was no imminent threat, no scourge of dragon nor looming empire to provide adequate distraction from the bloodied lips of the fallen Elezen._

_Strewn out on the luxurious tapestry that decorated the ground beneath their feet, the fading smile that had affixed itself to Lord Haurchefant’s grim visage was all that the Warrior of Light could see. Unlike the real event, there was no presence of Ser Aymeric or even the aggressive aura of Estinien’s crimson dragoon armor to help soften the blow or provide something else to look at. Instead, the bard was faced with the crippling realization that he would need to suffer through Haurchefant’s steady ebb into death. Again._

_Though the knight extended a hand to him, the Warrior of Light found himself not so quick to take it as he had been the first time around. As if resisting the offer would slow the effects of time; prevent the Elezen from murmuring those last few words and falling still. But before he could make the conscious decision to rebuke the dream entirely, he found himself reaching out to take the gloved hand that was being offered, acting entirely without realizing it. Though once he did, he held onto that hand in a vice-like grip, tight and unwavering._

_Don’t go. Don’t._

_His attachment to the man was undeniable. Haurchefant had been a sheltering authority ever since their escape from Ul’dah. Without the influence of the House Fortemps, well… The bard didn’t necessarily want to consider what the alternative would have been. Instead, he had cherished all that was given to them in their time of need. Right up to the moment when that shield provided what little buffer it could from Ser Zephirin’s fatal blow and the knight breathed his last. The Warrior of Light had been nothing but thankful. Even when it came down to the quiet nights in Coerthas, Haurchefant had been a bit of a bright beacon, allowing them to joke and laugh even when tension had settled over the rest of their lives._

_So as the man’s final words seemed to jab the bard square in the heart, he still managed to keep their hands joined. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let go._

_/A smile better suits a hero…/_

—–

The Warrior awoke with a start. So invested had he been in his own dream that he hadn’t anticipated being pulled from it so jarringly. But beneath the branch of the tree he’d clambered up to find a decent napping spot, the curious nature of his white-feathered chocobo companion had prompted the bird to make a loud series of chirps in alarm. It was only upon looking down and to the ground that the Miqo’te realized that he’d been about to tumble over the side of the branch. That would have been a much ruder awakening. Thankfully, his chocobo was less prone to afternoon sabbaticals in the trees and was smart enough to provide a bit of warning.

“Thank you, my friend,” the bard called down to the bird with a tired, but gentle smile. “I’m not sure I would have appreciated falling into the dirt.” The chocobo gave a few pleased ‘kweh’ sounds in response, going back to investigating a small trail of ants that lead down the hill and into a small mound of dirt. He typically kept himself occupied with such follies as he found it much more preferable to being cooped up in a stable for hours at a time. Not that the locals appreciated it, but as long as the bird could stay out of trouble, they didn’t fuss very hard on the topic.

Up in the tree, the Warrior of Light took a moment to stretch his limbs. How long had it been since he’d first found his little hideaway? It took a cursory glance up at the tree canopy to discern that the evening would be creeping into the Twelveswood, replacing the bright rays of the sun with a moderate glow of the moon and stars instead. Perhaps he had been asleep for too long. But it wasn’t very often that he was offered the chance to simply sit and be for a while. Between their endeavors in the Far East and the tasks they’d yet to complete awaiting their return to Ala Mhigo, the Scions of the Seventh Dawn’s proverbial plates had been full for some time. It was only because of the knowledge that they had yet more to do that the bard had been able to convince his party to take a rest in Gridania for a few weeks. To overwork themselves would do no good and, for the moment, there was no rush to return to Lyse at Rhalgr’s Reach. So with some reluctance, the Scions had agreed to the momentary reprieve, arriving in the Twelveswood after some time and choosing to settle for a brief stay in which they could converse with the Twin Adder, help with a few menial tasks in Gridania, and ensure that their affairs were in order before moving on.

While Alphinaud and Alisaie had decided to fill their time with planning, arguments, and diplomacy - the former more than the latter - Y’shtola who had been traveling along with them decided to provide the Adders with some moderate healing assistance. Conversely, Thancred had decided to depart for the Rising Stones in order to fulfill a non-descript promise he’d made to a fair maiden he’d met when he had been there last. No one had tried to stop him or find out more. The man’s business was his business, after all.

Meanwhile, the bard Charleaux had found time for other things. While the majority of their travels insisted on him performing physical feats again and again, there had been precious little time for proper rest. He would manage to catch a few winks in between daily travel, but beyond that, there was not much he could do. Since their encounter with Zenos atop the Royal Menagerie, he’d become weary and exhausted, though he hid it about as well as he could. At least until the opportunity for proper rest had presented itself which the bard had to snap up while he had the chance. Otherwise, he feared he’d collapse from the lack of sleep. Thankfully, his fellow Scions had been more than understanding. And even now, as he sought out sunny places to stretch out and relax, he had been left mostly alone, even by those in the area who longed to catch just a single glimpse of the Warrior of Light. While Charleaux didn’t make a frequent habit of avoiding and ignoring both admirers and fans, he had been adamant to do his own thing and rest while things were quiet. Which meant that those seeking out some attention or a regaling of past battles and accomplishments would have to go without for now. At least until the bard’s recuperation had been completed.

But that didn’t mean he could avoid responsibility entirely.

In the middle of a shift in order to get himself comfortable once again and hopefully drift back off to sleep, there was a brief shuffling of feet below which brought his attention downward once again. This time, it wasn’t the pristine snowy white of his chocobo’s feathers that greeted him. Instead, it was the blue and white armor of one of the Elder Seedseer’s personal honor guard: The Keepers of the Entwined Serpent. An illustrious name for such an important position, no doubt. But what was one of them doing hovering underneath the Warrior of Light’s impromptu nap spot?

“Excuse me, Ser Deandre,” the young dark-hair Hyur said once the bard had managed to acknowledge his presence at all. How long had he been standing there, Charleaux wondered. “I’ve been sent by the Elder Seedseer to ask that you attend an urgent rendezvous at the Lotus Stand. I’ve also been asked to see that the other Scions receive the same summoning. I apologize for interrupting your rest.” He bowed, apologetic, though the bard waved it off. Sometimes, responsibilities couldn’t take a back seat to the need for sleep. Besides, he’d been given enough ample opportunities to recover. The Warrior of Light may not have been prepared to depart for Ala Mhigo just yet, but he could lend himself to whatever issue had arisen in the Twelveswood.

“Did the Elder Seedseer provide any details as to why our attendance is necessary?” the Miqo’te asked with a curious tilt of his head. Not that he denied that whatever the purpose was was important, but he did enjoy being prepared.

The Hyur could only shake his head, however. “I am sorry. She offered no details. Only that she needed the Scions. If you’ll forgive me for my sudden departure, but I must fetch the others.”

Charleaux offered a nod and allowed the man to be on his way. At least the others would be present. He hadn’t been looking forward to a solo meeting with Kan-E-Senna. Her eloquent speech and overall candor made the bard seem much less… refined, by comparison. Not that it mattered to most others. But to him, it was a little more apparent. Though he didn’t give it much more than a passing thought before he was hopping out of the tree and back onto the ground where his chocobo gave a curious hum, coming over to nudge his large beak against Charleaux’s cheek.

“You can continue with your investigations,” the bard said with a smile as he brought hands up to give some of the feathers at the side of the bird’s head a few gentle scratches. “I will come and fetch you when I am done.”

The chocobo seemed content with that and again turned to meander off and over the hill, hopefully keeping out of trouble while Charleaux decidedly began to stroll in the opposite direction, taking a few seconds to stretch once more before doing so. He assumed that the other Scions would likely join him at the Lotus Stand not soon after he arrived, though he took some time to try and avoid catching the eye of a few Gridanians who had been making efforts to get his attention on several occasions since their arrival. It meant that he had to take a few keenly discovered alternate pathways before he could emerge before the silent conjurer who always awaited them at Nophica’s Altar.

Before the conjurer could even take notice of the bard’s presence, however, the keen Leveilleur twins managed to do so much sooner, waving him over to where they stood a few yalms away. Apparently, they had waited for him.

“I’m glad to see that the Keeper managed to wake you from your hibernation,” Alisaie said in a gentle teasing tone. Most of the Scions had figured, by now, that the Warrior of Light had earned some moderate rest. None of them had wanted to disturb him before now. “Did you at least get some sleep into your day?”

Charleaux offered a small smile and a shrug in response. “Just enough for me to know that I’m fully conscious and not, in fact, sleepwalking right now.” It was nice to be able to speak casually with her. Since their encounter with the Imperials in Ala Mhigo which left them temporarily entombed in rock and stone, they’d been able to carry on much less strained conversations. Neither felt as though they had to impress the other now. It was nice.

Alphinaud, on the other hand, seemed a bit distressed that they had been summoned at all, turning to the bard with a questioning glance that told the Miqo’te that the scholar had not been any more informed than he had. “Do you know why we’re being summoned? I was under the impression that things had become relatively quiet in the Twelveswood. Has something else gone awry?” He almost seemed exasperated at the thought. Perhaps he too had been anticipating a rest, even if his definition of a break was burying himself into some books instead of rehearsing carefully planned strategies in times of war. Either way, Charleaux understood the surface-level despair.

“I am as ill-informed as you are, my friend,” he responded with a sympathetic gaze. “But once Y’shtola arrives, I imagine we will be able to get our answer. In fact - There she is now.”

No sooner had he mentioned the woman when she carried herself over to their small rendezvous, seeming as though she had been disturbed from something important.

“Here you all are,” she said. “Let’s not dally here. I’d like to return to the Adders Nest as soon as I can. There are a few soldiers who require more attention than their usual chirurgeon can provide.”

Neither the twins nor the Warrior of Light seemed to have any issue with that, the small party soon making their way to the conjurer who would permit passage into the Lotus Stand. Charleaux had often wondered if the man provided any other purpose than to act as a gatekeeper, but wonderings were interrupted as he instead focused on the questions that Kan-E-Senna had planted into their heads. Internally, the bard worried. It had been some time since anything significant had impacted Eorzea and if something were to strike now, well… He was largely unsure if the Scions would be prepared to meet it, given that their attentions were divided between their home, Ala Mhigo, and their earlier forays into Hingashi and Doma. Being pulled in so many directions had a tendency to leave them ill-suited for a singular focus.

In any case, the worry was swiftly replaced by surprise as they stepped down the pathway and into the Lotus Stand. Not only did the Elder Seedseer await them, but so too did a particularly tall Elezen adorned in blue and gold and seemingly quite relieved to see the Scions as they stepped across the lily-like rock formations and towards the central structure which acted as a meeting place.

“Ser Aymeric?” Alphinaud exclaimed in confusion as they settled around the center, met with a warm smile from the Lord Commander himself and a relatively mute expression from the knight standing beside him. As usual, Lucia, as Ser Aymeric’s second, was much more withdrawn than her commander. Perhaps she knew something the rest of them didn’t. Or maybe she was just less prone to friendly greetings.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Scions,” Ser Aymeric responded with a polite half-bow. Though it was an unnecessary gesture from one so elevated in the Holy See’s current chain of command, none of the others would ever refuse it. In their time spent in Ishgard, the relationship between the Lord Commander and the Warrior of Light had developed substantially. The ending of the Dragonsong War had not been accomplished overnight. And between the threat of Nidhogg and the unwavering King Thordan, both Charleaux and Ser Aymeric had spent more than a few nights allowing the hours to pass as they went back and forth about what they would do next. And beyond that, they had spent enough time together coping with Lord Haurchefant’s death once they had been allowed the time to do so, even going so far as to visit the headstone that sat atop the hill for a brief vigil. Overall, Charleaux’s affection for the man had only grown over time, so the bard happily returned the small gesture with a smile. It was good to see him after so many months.

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” he continued as his smile faded. As was to be expected. If something had brought the Lord Commander all the way from Ishgard, chances were, whatever reason they were here was serious enough to involve more than just Gridania. Though the absence of both Admiral Merlwyb and General Raubahn must have meant that it did not quite involve the entirety of the Alliance.

As they turned to the Elder Seedseer, her own expression seemed to match Ser Aymeric’s; serious and concerned though it was, she still managed to offer everyone in attendance a courteous bow.

“I apologize for having to interrupt the evening with such dire news, but there is a situation that must be addressed as quickly as possible,” Kan-E-Senna began with the smooth, calm tone of her voice betraying the apparent urgency with which the meeting had been called. “Time is of the essence if we are to retrieve those that have gone missing.”

“Missing?” Alisaie interjected, eyebrows raised. She wasn’t often fantastic at waiting her turn to speak, much to her brother’s chagrin. Thankfully, the Elder Seedseer was patient and did not seem to mind addressing her.

“Yes. In the last few weeks, we have had multiple instances of individuals disappearing into the Twelveswood by the light of the moon. From our reports, we found that whatever is drawing them away from the cities is not very discerning. Not only have some of our Adders gone missing, but so too have civilians, both adults and children alike. It is becoming increasingly alarming and it is likely that the disappearances will continue to escalate over time as they have been without intervention.”

The news was certainly alarming. None of the Scions had much to say, with Alisaie and Alphinaud both firmly entrenched in their own minds as they attempted to come up with some form of explanation to no avail while the Warrior of Light invested himself in the information provided. Y’shtola, on the other hand, decided to not wallow in silence and wonder, instead stepping forward to ask more.

“And how does this involve Ishgard, Lord Commander? Surely you do not know who is responsible?”

The others glanced up at Ser Aymeric who gave a slow shake of his head.

“Unfortunately, no. I have been in contact with Gridania since the issue began. While both the Admiral and General seem preoccupied with their own matters, I decided to delegate a few of my knights to venture into Gridania to assist with protection and to keep an eye on things. Unfortunately, the eight men I sent have gone missing as well. With no explanation, I was left with no choice but to come and investigate myself.” His statement seemed to moderately upset Lucia who shook her head as well, muttering a few words to him in turn. Charleaux could only catch enough to suggest that she felt as though he need not have come at all. But Ser Aymeric had a tendency to want to handle things himself. And no one really blamed him.

“Indeed, this has become a matter beyond only Gridania,” Kan-E-Senna continued with a grim expression. Though she did not get to say much more on the topic before Alphinaud took his turn to ask questions, his voice laden with concern.

“Do you not assume that this is the work of the imperials? Perhaps they are using tactics in order to reclaim the wall. Though I must admit, they are more of an offensive enemy rather than an underhanded one. This would be new for the empire.”

One of the Keepers stepped forward then, gathering the attention of the party as he began to speak.

“That is what we had assumed as well. But we’ve seen no sign of imperial troops nor magitek in the area. If it is indeed the empire, then this would be entirely unheard of means of accomplishing their goal. But we have our doubts. Some of the men have instead made the distinction that it may be a yet unknown tribe of beastmen still lingering in the Twelveswood. Though they’ve no real evidence beyond a children’s fairy tale to defend their claims.”

“A fairy tale does not seem much to go on,” Y’shtola responded, skeptical of the entirety of the idea. Though they didn’t say it, Charleaux could see that the Leveilleur twins thought similarly. But with no evidence to the contrary or to guide them into another direction, what else could they offer? They were no better off with or without the lead. “So what are we supposed to do? Send more soldiers stumbling into the wood at night and hope they come across some manner of monster to slay?” Her sarcasm was almost palpable.

“The Elder Seedseer has actually called you Scions here for that particular purpose,” Ser Aymeric interjected, hoping to spare their poorly laid out ‘plan’ from any more of Y’shtola’s scrutiny. “Along with myself, we are that you have a better chance of investigating the matter than the Adders do alone. If we can formulate an approximate area where the missing Adders were last seen, perhaps we may be able to do a bit of digging and follow whatever trail may lead us further into the wood. From there, the hope is that we may dispatch whatever threat may be laying in wait.”

There was silence for a few moments as the Scions took time to think over the proposition. They weren’t exactly fit to locate missing persons, but it wasn’t as though they hadn’t done it previously. And true enough, if there were something nefarious waiting to greet them deep into the Twelveswood, their chances of victory would be much greater with the Warrior of Light in tow. It was to that end that none of them could find any reason to object, though Alisaie did find the opportunity to pry further. It was better that they have some form of lead than no lead at all.

“Tell us, Keeper,” she directed to the one clad in armor who had spoken earlier. “What is this tale that you mentioned? We’ve seen enough in our time together that I’m not sure we should rule out anything in particular, no matter how outlandish.”

The Keeper seemed a bit taken aback that she’d asked at all, though he was in no position to refuse an explanation, even if it did seem moderately silly. Perhaps he was just not used to being the center of attention. He was not a fantastic storyteller, in any case, and it took him a moment of preparation to be able to say anything at all.

“Well, there is a story that Gridanians often tell their children when their behavior has been less than satisfactory,” he began. “Many eons ago, there was a race of beastmen that made their home in what is now Gridania. This is… before Eorzea’s formation. But before the Twelveswood could be settled by Eorzeans, these beastmen ruled the land. Though they were no ordinary beastmen as you and I know them today. Instead, this particular race could control how they appeared and what they presented themselves as, living among the other animals in the wood and establishing their own way of the forest.”

To Charleaux, this didn’t seem so far fetched. There were already beastmen that shared the lands with the Gridanians. Who was to say that there was not a previous tribe in existence? Though he made no comment, choosing instead to allow the Keeper to continue.

“But when the Eorzean settlers began to craft their homes and build their cities, the beastmen became furious. Instead of presenting themselves as mere creatures, they began to take on the form of twisted, despicable monsters, tainted by greed and territorialism. Soon they began to attack the settlers, razing their cities and killing everything in their wake. Until the settlers mounted enough of a force to fight back, chasing the beastmen further and further into the Twelveswood until they emerged no more.”

There was still silence among the group; their attention had been captured quite well.

“But they did not think to make sure that the beastmen had vanished entirely. Instead of outright extermination, they deemed their job to be finished, and so returned to their home, glad that the day had been won. In their desire to celebrate, they did not think to keep an eye out for their enemy’s return. And so, perhaps, the beastmen still linger in the Twelveswood, waiting for the opportunity to strike again.”

The Keeper seemed about finished and he offered a sheepish shrug. As if the tale had no real solid purpose outside of being entertaining. “It is what mothers tell their children at night,” he continued. “To ensure that they behave. Otherwise, the beastmen will come and snatch them away as a form of revenge.”

None of them seemed to know what to say or think about that. It would be in the back of their minds now, however, that somewhere out in the Twelveswood, there was possibly some manner of vengeful beastmen just waiting to reach out and -

“Well, I suppose that was… entertaining, if nothing else. But we will keep it in mind as we venture forth,” Alphinaud finally said, breaking the silence and agreeing to the rescue efforts all in one fell swoop. “If Gridania and Ishgard are in need of the Scions, then we will do our best to rescue those who have been lost and bring them back safely.” That, at least, they could all agree on.

“Then it is settled,” the Lord Commander responded soon after. “I recommend you all take some time to prepare yourselves for whatever threat may linger in the wood. We have a few hours left until the sun disappears entirely. We will meet when the moon has risen at the edge of the Central Shroud. There we can journey forth together. I will allow you time to decide which of you will go and which will remain. It may be better to take a small party rather than a large one. We will need the element of surprise on our side, lest we end up chasing our prey further into the wood.”

The Scions had no protest to offer, having given temporary command to Ser Aymeric who seemed to take charge out of pure habit if nothing else. They had no reason to distrust his judgment, however. At least… not many reasons.

“I thank you all for your assistance in Gridania’s time of need,” Kan-E-Senna spoke with a courteous bow as if to signify that they need not remain any longer. “If you require any more information, my Keepers may assist you before you go. Otherwise, there are some other things I must attend to. Forgive me for my necessary departure.”

“Thank you, Elder Seedseer,” Alphinaud piped up in gratitude. He was always the more courteous one to members of authority. And it seemed that with their thank yous having been said, the Elder Seedseer turned away and, accompanied by two of her guard, the third of which stayed behind in the Lotus Stand, departed to see to their responsibilities.

Ser Aymeric and Lucia both offered their goodbyes not long after, turning to drift back out to the altar and towards their meeting place. Unlike the Scions, they likely had not come for any rest or leisure. The chances of them having anything but their mission to do was unlikely. But there was little time to wonder as the Leveilleur twins were soon guiding both the Warrior of Light and Y’shtola back towards the Adders’ Nest where they would undoubtedly gather more information before deciding just what their plan of action was.

—-

“And so you decided that I would stay behind as well, did you?” Alisaie nearly snapped at her brother, arms folded across her chest in obvious irritation. She never did like being left out of things, particularly when her brother was involved. But as Alphinaud had insisted on being present to do some investigating himself, he had not seen it as necessary for them both to go into the wood.

“You must believe me, sister, when I say it is not because of your lack of ability!” Alphinaud retorted, exasperated with his sister’s behavior and upset that he needed to defend his decision at all. But even when he looked to the Warrior of Light for some manner of ‘back up’, Charleaux could only offer both hands up in surrender. The bard had very little say in the specifics of their traveling party. All he knew was that he would be required, no matter what. Alphinaud would need to convince Alisaie on his own. It was made especially difficult considering Y’shtola had already opted out of the journey, choosing to instead venture back into the Nest to continue with her previous work.

“I need you to remain behind as a means to provide an alternate plan if things go awry with our initial party,” he continued as if the thought had just then occurred to him. “There is no guarantee that we will not get into trouble ourselves, no matter what may be waiting in the wood. You will need to lead this secondary party in that case. Who else would?”

Alisaie seemed skeptical, but it was a better reason than ‘I’m leaving you behind because I’m worried about you’ anyway. It was only with that justification that she finally offered a sigh and a shake of her head. “Fine. But do not expect this to always be the way of things.”

Charleaux who sat nearby simply offered a shrug to the both of them, his expression affixed in an awkward smile.

“All settled then?” He asked, a bit eager to get moving himself. The orange-pink hues in the sky which indicated the presence of the sun were finally vanishing and night was falling much faster than they anticipated. They would need to get moving if they didn’t want to waste much more time.

“Not so fast!” Called a voice from behind their little impromptu meeting place. It was sudden and loud enough to get the attention of both twins and the bard, turning to see the owner: a slender-framed astrologian with deep red hair and an excitable yet determined expression. Though not all of them were as familiar with the woman as Charleaux was, they all certainly recognized her almost instantly.

“Ivy Higgs, isn’t it?” Alisaie said with a raise of her eyebrows. The last time they’d come across one another was in the desert outside of Rhalgr’s Reach. Though the woman had been adorned with red mage gear at the time, not dissimilar to Alisaie’s own equipment. Now, she carried the trademark globe of a card-based healer.

“That it is!” Ivy said with a pleased nod. “I’m glad you remembered! But YOU-” Her attention turned towards the Warrior of Light who tensed briefly. Yes. Yes, they knew each other. Well enough that the Hyur woman felt no manner of shyness as she immediately stepped forward to embrace the Miqo’te in a firm hug. She was… stronger than she looked.

“You do not come and see me nearly often enough.”

Charleaux could only offer a slight chuckle and an appeasing grin at Alphinaud who could only squint ever so briefly. As if taking a moment to decide Higgs’ intentions. Though when the bard only returned the hug in kind and little else, he seemed satisfied with that outcome.

“You’re right,” the bard said, apologetic. “I will make a note to seek you out during my down times.”

“Hah-hah.” Ivy gave a sarcastic and dry laugh. They both knew that the Warrior of Light did not often have time for leisure. This was but a rare instance. “In any case, I overheard your conversation. And several of the Adders have asked if I know what you plan on doing in the wood. I’m assuming you’ll be going after those that are missing?”

“That is correct,” Alphinaud said. “It will be Charleaux and I, as well as Ser Aymeric de Borel of Ishgard who has come to retrieve some of his own men.”

“Ah, yes. The Ishgardians.” Higgs nodded and placed her hands on her hips as she stared at the ground in deep thought as if considering something. Though it was only a brief moment or two that had passed before she perked back up and proclaimed, “Then you may count me in as well. You’ll need someone who knows the Adders as well as I do.”

The Warrior of Light was about to protest, but he soon found that he could not argue with her statement. Though he had risen up in the ranks of the Twin Adders during his early days in Gridania, there was no doubt that he had drifted off to do other things while Ivy, who arrived sometime after he had, had remained for much longer before venturing off. Most of her work remained in the Adders’ company. Barring, of course, the occasional intellectual pursuit in the ruins of the Sharlayan colony in the Dravanian Hinterlands. Her expertise had indeed surpassed his own by now.

“We would do well with an adept healer on our side,” he added, certain of his words until he noticed Alphinaud’s almost undetectable pointed look. But Charleaux had known him long enough to know when he’d offered insult. Even if it were an accident. “Not that you don’t possess just as much skill!” He was quick to correct in light of his mistake. “But -”

“But a healer who knows the soldiers is probably best. Especially if they need to trust their rescuers.” It was Ivy with the save, apparently.

Alphinaud seemed to accept that while Alisaie couldn’t help but look just a little smug.

“Then our party is decided,” he said with a firm nod, glad to be done with the business. “Alisaie, if you will remain here with Y’shtola for the time being, we will find a means to send word if we require secondary assistance.”

“I will be ready,” she replied. “And brother, do be careful.”

Alphinaud could only offer the smallest of smiles. Though he would never admit it, he did enjoy seeing his sister’s caring side every now and again. But he would not embarrass her for it, instead providing her with a nod in reply before Alisaie was turning and heading for the door that would lead her to where Y’shtola was still invested in her work with some ill and injured soldiers.

“Let us be off then!” Ivy announced before she and the two remaining boys ventured off towards the meeting place that had been set out by Ser Aymeric. None of them knew what to expect, though Charleaux could only imagine that it would be only one of the many stories that they had under their belts by now. For the time being, he would have to focus on the task ahead, following behind the others as they strode towards the trees that denoted the way to the Central Shroud.

—-

“Have you finished your preparation then?” Ser Aymeric asked when they were finally away from Gridania’s outer edges and standing along the edge of the thicker parts of the Shroud. Evidently, he’d not been followed by Lucia. It was likely that the decision was met with the same amount of protest that Alisaie had offered them back in the Nest. Though Charleaux was moderately thankful that they wouldn’t have to try to balance the heavy-hitting nature of the Garlean knight in an environment where quiet was best. They were pushing their luck with the Lord Commander alone, though he had a tendency to be a bit more discreet when it was necessary.

“Yes, we are ready,” said Alphinaud with a nod. With his grimoire firmly secured to his waist, he was undoubtedly ready to bring it forth at a moment’s notice. If nothing else, his carbuncle companion could provide them with light in darker areas if need be. Meanwhile, Charleaux had his large, imposing bow affixed to straps along his back and Ivy’s globe remained in a similar place against hers. Ser Aymeric seemed to prefer having his sword unsheathed, though the Warrior of Light would certainly not blame him, as it seemed that he preferred to have the helm of their traveling party. Better to be prepared, in that case.

“I received an approximate location as to where some of the missing Gridanian soldiers were last seen. I am assuming that if we find our way there and then look for any lingering evidence, we will find our culprits. Or, at least, be one step closer to doing so.” Alphinaud had made a point of speaking with some of the soldiers that Y’shtola had been tending to. They had been happy to divulge information if it meant getting their comrades back.

“Then you may lead us there.” The Lord Commander didn’t have any qualms about taking a backseat to Alphinaud’s expertise, considering all that the scholar had offered to him in Ishgard. Though he would feel better about reclaiming a lead role once said location had been found. Charleaux, on the other hand, was just fine with following them both. It meant that he could keep an eye on Ivy who, on more than one occasion, had a tendency to talk. Quite a bit. They would need to maintain a relative low volume and if that meant that the bard needed to dissuade any extensive conversation, he would. For now, she was quiet, hands clasped behind her back as the group began to follow Alphinaud who had produced a small, yet carefully detailed map of the area. It was enough to get them to where they were going.

The walk there was certainly not short, however. An hour had passed by the time Alphinaud seemed content with their depth into the wood and lead them into a brief pause in a clearing with no real definable features. At least, to anyone except the scholar, apparently.

“This is the formation of trees that the soldiers told me about,” he said, seemingly confident in the directions he’d been given. Turning his eyes away from the map, he pointed up to the canopy which was dotted with breaks that allowed a fair amount of moonlight to shine down on the undergrowth. “The breaks in the leaves almost resemble a large hooded snake. You see? The head is to the left and the body extends over to the right. This is where they last saw the other soldiers.”

Ser Aymeric seemed incredibly unconvinced that this was at all the proper means of marking forest territory, but he was less familiar with the terrain than he was with snowy dunes and Ishgard’s cityscapes, so he made no comment to the contrary. He would have to rely on Alphinaud’s information, as would they all. He didn’t hesitate to begin to search, however, for any manner of evidence as to where the missing soldiers could have moved on to from there, whether it was of their own accord or by some other, more nefarious means.

“Look for footprints,” he said, eyes scanning the ground beneath them as he strode carefully over fallen leaves and branches, trying not to create too much of a mess in the process. “Or any other markings which may indicate where they may have gone. But try not to wander far.” Safety, at this hour of the night, was important.

The group split at that point, drifting around the clearing but keeping within earshot as they searched for any sort of clues. A trail to follow… footprints… Anything that could give them some kind of lead. At least that’s what three of them were doing while Ivy decided to hop over to the Warrior of Light, giving him a playful nudge with an elbow.

“You didn’t tell me Ishgardians were so good-looking,” she said with a grin. Charleaux could only offer a good-natured roll of his eyes while he kept himself from laughing outright. She had certainly never been shy about who she found attractive. At one point, the bard had even made the assumption that she’d had a vested interest in him, though it ultimately ended up being his own ego that had made the assumption for him. They’d laughed it off easily enough though. As easy-going as Ivy was, she was not hard to get along with.

“I wasn’t sure if he was your type or not, I suppose,” the bard replied. “He can be a bit… focused.” Which was probably putting the Lord Commander’s level of dedication to Ishgard as lightly as possible. Though the Warrior of Light had to admit that when things settled down, Ser Aymeric could offer some decent conversation and downtime. The dinner at his manor had certainly solidified that, even if it had ended on a bit of a sour note. Though there was a bit of his own inclination that perhaps Ser Aymeric had invited him over as a means of gauging interest…

…Maybe that was his own ego talking too.

“Well, I won’t let that dissuade me. You keep looking over here and I’ll go and assist him, hmm?”

Charleaux was about to protest the idea of bothering the Lord Commander while he was busy with his search, but he imagined that Ivy would have enough self-restraint to take too much of his attention away. Either way, he was in no position to stop her once she got an idea in her head. He could only breathe out a little sigh before going back to his search, taking him a few steps further away from their initial clearing.

It was several more minutes that he looked before recognizing that he was likely to come up empty-handed. It was a bit warm in the wood at this time of night and he stood still for a time to wipe the sweat from his brow underneath his hat. Maybe it was time to turn back -

His pause was long enough that he noticed a shift in the underbrush ahead. It was just loud enough to catch his attention and he instinctively froze, staring straight into the foliage. His hands were not on his bow, though it would only take him a second to properly draw it if necessary. He just… didn’t know if it was necessary yet. And he didn’t want to run the risk of drawing on a friendly stranger rather than what they were really here for.

But when a pair of glowing eyes met his gaze in the dark, a chill ran up his spine and made the fur along his tail stand on end. Those were… certainly not the eyes of a man. So perhaps then a beast…? But the fact that it stayed tucked well into the shadows was not presenting any answers and was, much to his dismay, only putting the slightest of quivers in his hands as he took a tentative step back.

One step back turned into several steps back once the eyes began to move, raising up and well above the bard’s height. Whatever creature this was had to have been at least eight fulms high. And though there wasn’t much that could shake the Warrior of Light this late into the game, perhaps it had been just the right amount of circumstances to get him to turn tail and try to make his way back to the clearing. At the very least, he could get back up before facing whatever creature soon began to chase after him, its heavy footfalls shattering sticks and branches underfoot as it ran in pursuit.

An unfortunately placed branch seemed to creep up out of nowhere, catching one of the bard’s boots as he made for the relative safety of the group, sending him down and to the ground as he tumbled into the clearing much to the surprise of the others who had already been in a panic when they’d heard the commotion. Alphinaud was first to rush to Charleaux’s side, quickly followed by Aymeric who placed himself between the others and the impending threat, sword drawn. Though there was no need as the beast seemed to slow and eventually come to a stop, yellow eyes catching the moonlight and reflecting eerily in the dark. It was only when the creature seemed to spy all four of the party members that it decided to turn and make its way in the opposite direction, clearly outmatched.

“We have to… follow it!” The bard called out. Despite the embarrassment that came with his panic, he was no fool. Whatever the creature had been, it was their first real lead. They would need to go after it.

“Are you alright?” Alphinaud asked, clearly concerned, a hand placed against Charleaux’s back as the Warrior of Light got back to his feet. He was no worse for the wear. Just had to shake off the resulting bruised ego that came with tripping out in the middle of nowhere. But he would recover quickly, already heading back into the forest and after what had chased him out of it to begin with. Alphinaud could only give an exasperated groan before going after him with both Ser Aymeric and Ivy not far behind.

Through the forest they ran with renewed vigor, using what means they could to take down any low lying branches in their way as they followed the beast that had taken off deeper into the wood. Charleaux was convinced - _convinced_ \- that they would find something at the end of this pursuit.

Though he had not anticipated what they actually did find.

When the trees began to thin and the footfalls of their prey began to fade into the distance, the Warrior of Light slowed to a stop. Where they expected more of the same tree cover, instead they were met with a colossus of a natural structure; a rock formation which jut violently out into the landscape. It almost seemed as if it had been… placed there rather than formed. But that was impossible. Either way, the formation was not as simple as a rocky outcrop. Instead, it opened up like a pair of vicious jaws, sharpened stalactites clinging to the roof of the formation’s mouth, acting as a tentative warning for those who dared to cross its threshold.

“What… is this?” Alphinaud asked in awe. The cave towered over the rest of the trees in the area. There was very little doubt that something must have made its home inside if it was truly as deep as it seemed. The gaping blackness seemed so vast.

“I think the beast we were pursuing must have escaped… into there.” Ivy didn’t seem all that thrilled by the prospect of venturing into a deep, dark cave with no knowledge of where exactly they were going. But… if that were the only option…

“Look,” Charleaux said, moving forward to the cave’s mouth until his boots were no longer in the brush and were instead trodding on rock and stone. He took some time to crouch, gloved fingers reaching out to gently brush against the dirt that lingered against the ground. “…Footprints. These were made by no creature.” They were clearly that of men, tread soles against the ground which lead further into the darkness. An unappealing prospect indeed.

Ser Aymeric seemed less shaken, though that didn’t necessarily mean that he was very excited either. He simply understood that perhaps his men lay somewhere in the rocky jaws. And they may still need help. “…It looks as though our path has been laid out for us,” he murmured thoughtfully, staring into the abyss.

“I suppose so,” Alphinaud replied a bit grimly before reaching for his grimoire. It took a moment of focus before his obsidian carbuncle which generally accompanied him during times of combat was at his side once again. With it came a small aura of light which would be their only means of guidance. It was almost pitifully dim compared to the impending blackness before them. But they would have to rely on it nonetheless. “Are you ready?” He asked, turning to the Warrior of Light in particular. He knew that whatever danger awaited them, the bard would likely be most prepared to meet it head-on.

Charleaux took in a breath and let it out slowly, turning his gaze to Higgs and then to the Lord Commander in turn. Finally, he glanced over to Alphinaud who awaited his response.

“…Let’s go.”

With the Warrior of Light’s confirmation, the party stepped forward and towards the cave, weapons at the ready and eyes taking some time to adjust as they pressed on…

Into the waiting jaws of uncertainty.


End file.
